


Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience

by mutemail



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Modern Era, fem!Gabriel, fem!aziraphale, nun au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22835128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutemail/pseuds/mutemail
Summary: “Remember your vows, Sister Aziraphale,” chides Gabrielle.“Yes,” she pauses without looking away from Crowley, “and what were those again?”
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by a panel of a Thor comic that I saw on tumblr. I’m not sure exactly what it’s from but [HERE](https://pics.me.me/perhaps-the-god-thunder-would-like-t-stay-remember-your-26907769.png) is a link to the bit I’m talking about if anyone’s curious. My friend One and I were shooting the shit one day talking about this fic as an Azi/Crow/Gabe AU but I just ended up making it Azi/Crow with Gabrielle being on the side, trying desperately to keep one particular nun from being lead astray. Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy!

Wind whips past his hair as he flies over another bump in the dirt road, surprisingly smooth travels for the most part, then lets out a curse at the odd noise his engine makes. Crowley tightens his grip on the steering wheel with a frustrated furrow of his brows. The engine revs loudly and the speedometer begins to drop despite his desperate mashing of the gas pedal. The orange glow of the check engine light does nothing to quell the irritation rising in his chest. Finally, he pulls the car to the side of the road as much as he can and cuts her off.

“Really, Mary? Now of _all times_? We are in the middle of nowhere.”

The car, as expected, does not offer a reply. 

Crowley presses his forehead against the top of the wheel, only yanking it back up at a sudden rapping on the driver’s side window. He turns and is greeted with the sight of a nun-- she looks fairly young and jovial, a bit round faced with a dazzlingly kind smile to match. A few moments pass between them.

“Hello there, sir. Are you quite alright? I heard the roar of your engine from inside the monastery and figured that I would see what was going on.” The woman clasps her hands together nervously but keeps a polite look upon the red-haired stranger. Crowley scrambles to roll down the window, realizes the car is turned off, and awkwardly squeezes out the door before shutting it.

“Ah-- yes, yes, everything’s fine. Just,” Crowley looks back to the car in question, noting faint wisps of smoke coming from the hood, and stretches one arm casually to the nape of his neck. “A little bit of trouble I think. Nothing to worry about.”

The nun tilts her head towards the front of the car then rounds upon it with an appraising eye. Crowley watches her, feeling his mouth suddenly dry up the more he stares at her face. Her eyes are the loveliest shade of blue that he’s ever seen and instantly he’s waxing poetic, comparing it to the depths of the ocean and the color of clouds before it rains. He feels his heart throb in his chest.

“If you’d like, you may borrow our phone to call someone in town? I doubt your cellular phone will have any signal around here, we keep a land-line precisely for this reason,” the nun flattens her palms against her belly and straightens out the invisible wrinkles of the fabric, “and emergencies, of course.”

Crowley purses his lips together for a moment and looks behind the nun through the trees to where he can see a nunnery rising between the branches. Unsurprisingly, the forest has kept it well hidden and he doesn’t even see a path leading though, the nun must have cut through the underbrush herself.

“It would be greatly appreciated, ma’am.” He keeps himself respectful, not one to make a fool of himself to someone so quickly. In fact, he’s already overly aware of the quickening pace of his own heart and is on double-time to keep himself in check.

The nun stifles a laugh with her hand. A gorgeous blush begins to rise up on her cheeks.

“Please, call me Aziraphale.” She brushes her fingers across the apples of her cheeks before dropping her hand, leading Crowley towards the building. “And you are?”

“Anthony Crowley,” he watches as she moves, graceful as if she had never stumbled a day in her life. Anything in her way would be _damned_ if it were to make her trip. He feels his heart throb.

Soon they are inside and she has him sat down in a kitchen area of sorts separate from the rest of the building. Aziraphale busies herself fixing him a glass of ice water with a small snack of cheeses and grapes-- _just in case, dear_ \-- when another nun enters the room. Crowley stacks a fruit on the cheese and pops it into his mouth before sneaking a sip of his water. This new woman practically demands attention, that much is obvious in the way that Aziraphale takes on a more serious expression and quits her teasing of the new-comer.

“Hello sister, I see you’ve rescued someone off the road?” Piercing eyes bore into Crowley as she speaks.

“Ah-- yes, sister Gabrielle. I’ve just set him up with a bit to eat and drink then we were going to call the in-town mechanic post-haste!” She gives a nervous chuckle and pumps her fist in faux excitement, trying to appear casual and failing terribly, though the other nun either didn’t pick up on it or didn’t care.

"I see, I hope this is resolved quickly otherwise we will be needing to find a place for him to sleep tonight.” She continues on as if Crowley were not even there. He takes another bite of the graciously provided snack. Sips his water again. Aziraphale turns to him with a curious expression, one of mirth and mischief.

“Perhaps this dashing young rebel would like to join us for dinner.” There’s a gleam in Aziraphale’s eye that is decidedly not quite innocent, but her tone suggests that of a proper nun. She keeps her hands clasped firm in front of her with a hopeful smile.

“Remember your vows, Sister Aziraphale,” chides Gabrielle.

“Yes,” she pauses without looking away from Crowley, “and what were those again?”

The red-head snorts into his glass of water, dribbling a bit down his chin that he makes a desperate pass at with his hand as to not let it drip onto his shirt. He sets down the glass with a clink as the nuns stare each other down.

“Your humorous attitude will not keep you on anyone's good side. I suggest that you ready yourself for duties before supper. Your guest may stay if he likes, he is more than welcome, though I expect to see you working diligently and not slacking off because you have company.”

Aziraphale finds herself red in the face, back rigid and hands clasped firmly behind her. Crowley watches her fingers twitch nervously despite the firm hold.

“Yes, sister, of course. Everything will be finished in time per usual, don’t fret. I will see you at service.”

The serious nun leaves and the two break into a fit of poorly-stifled giggles. Soon the snack is done, the mechanic is called, and Crowley shoos Aziraphale away from the sink to allow him to wash the dishes. It’s late in the evening before the mechanic comes out and does a bit of tinkering before wiping his hands on a rag and dubbing Mary fit to drive. Crowley is equal parts relieved and upset, having hoped that there would be a chance to stay for a meal with the nuns.

Once the mechanic has left, dust clouding his wake, he turns back to Aziraphale with a lopsided smile.

“Seems duty calls, sister. Perhaps I’ll see you again someday.” He presses his lips together shortly, hip cocking to the side. She smiles immediately.

“Of course, I’d hope that somehow will be so. Until next time Anthony.”

“Until next time.”

As he drives away with a waving nun in his rear-view and a blush staining his face, the sun setting against the trees, all he can think of are those deep blue eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos & comments fuel my writing!


End file.
